“Blush for me as much as you please, if it’s me you allude to,” cried the coarse father; “but when my daughter’s at stake, I make no bones of speaking plain, and cutting the matter short in the beginning--for we all know what love is when it comes to a head. Marrow-bones! don’t I know that there must be some reason why that headstrong girl won’t think of my Lord Runnymede’s son and heir, and such a looking youth, title and all, as my Lord Roadster! And you are the cause, sir; and I thank you for opening my eyes to it, as you did by your information to Mrs. Panton yesterday, in my absence.” Erasmus protested with such an air of truth as would have convinced any person capable of being convinced, that, in giving that information, he had been actuated solely by a desire to save Miss Panton from a ruinous match, by honest regard for her and all her family. “Ruinous!--You are wrong, sir--I know better--I know best--I saw my Lord Runnymede himself this very morning--a little temporary want of cash only from the estate’s being tied up, as they sometimes tie estates, which all noble families is subject to--Tell me! don’t I know the bottom of these things? for though I haven’t been used to land, I know all about it. And at worst, my Lord Roadster, my son-in-law that is to be, is not chargeable with a penny of his father’s debts. So your informer is wrong, sir, every way, and no lawyer, sir, for I have an attorney at my back--and your information’s all wrong, and you had no need to interfere.” Erasmus felt and acknowledged the imprudence of his interference, but hoped it might be forgiven in favour of the motive--and he looked so honestly glad to hear that his information was all wrong, that old Panton at the moment believed in his integrity, and said, stretching out his hand towards him, “Well, well, no harm done--then it’s all as it should be, and we may ring for dinner--But,” recurring again to his favourite idea, “you’ll get the wig, doctor?” “Excuse me,” said Erasmus, laughing, “your confidence in me cannot depend upon a wig.” “It can, sir, and it does,” cried Panton, turning again with all his anger revived. “Excuse you! No, sir, I won’t; for the wig’s my test, and I told Mrs. Panton so last night--the wig’s my test of your uprightness in this matter, sir; and I fairly tell you, that if you refuse this, all the words you can string don’t signify a button with me.” “And by what right, sir, do you speak to me in this manner?” cried Erasmus, proudly, for he lost all sense of the ludicrous in indignation at the insolent doubt of his integrity, which, after all the assurances he had given, these last words from Mr. Panton implied: “By what right, sir, do you speak to me in this manner?--And what reason can you have to expect that I should submit to any tests to convince you of the truth of my assertions?” “Right! Reason!” cried Panton. “Why, doctor, don’t you know that I’m your patron?”